by John Boyne
Every girl and woman who came our way was naked from the waist up and had a beauty that you couldn’t see if you travelled round the world a dozen times but never came to visit Otaheite. And every boy and man could only stare and cheer and think of the happy times ahead, because we’d all heard the stories from the salts of long standing and we knew that these were treats worthy of men who’d been at sea for a year and who had enjoyed no female companionship during that time.
I confess, the whole thing gave me the motions.
26
DISTURBED BY THE ATTENTIONS OF the islanders, I stepped quickly into the next launch that was setting out for the beaches and arrived in time to witness the captain’s first exchange with the island leaders. There was noise a-plenty to be heard as we approached the shore – bloody great cheers from the Englishmen who had preceded or were accompanying us and a kind of terrified but exciting caterwauling from the natives dancing up and down the sand – but to my surprise the latter stopped the very moment Captain Bligh set foot on land. It was as if a great orchestra had suddenly been knocked out of their rhythm by their conductor dropping his baton. I took it as one of their customs, for even though it gave me the chills the captain seemed to have expected such a commotion and the sudden desisting of it, for it didn’t make him turn on his heel and order that we all sail back to England immediately before every man jack of us was eaten alive. Instead he walked confidently towards the throne, stopped a little in front of it, and offered a short but efficient bow, the like of which I had never seen him give to any man before.
‘Your Majesty,’ said he, his voice taking on the affectations of a gentleman on an even higher social plane than the one on which he resided. ‘Might I be so honoured that you remember me, William Bligh, lieutenant, from my last visit to your fine island, when, if you recall, I was led by Captain James Cook of the Endurance.’
There was a long silence from the man seated on the throne and he narrowed his eyes and smiled before looking suddenly angry and then smiling again. He stroked his chin where his beard might have been, but there were no whiskers there and his appearance was as clean-shaven as my own. ‘Bligh,’ he said finally, sounding out the name as if it were a longer one than its five letters implied. ‘William Bligh,’ he repeated then after a moment, watching as the launches filled with sailors headed towards his shore. I had an idea that he was not perhaps as excited by this invasion as the rest of his kinsmen. ‘I am in the remembrance of you. The Captain Cook was joining you?’
The captain looked around for a moment and caught my eye; I dare say he could tell from my expression that I was at a loss what to think by this phrasing and the very question in itself. He glanced down at the sand for a moment then, as if he was ensuring for himself that the decision he had made was the right one, before looking back up at his inquisitor and smiling. ‘The captain is very well,’ said he and not a blush on his face despite the eloquence of the lie. ‘I’m happy to say that he is enjoying a well-earned retirement in London, from where he sends his warmest regards to Your Majesty.’
I don’t mind admitting that my mouth fell open at that last remark. I had never heard the captain utter a lie in all the time I had known him – at least I didn’t think I had, and if he had it must have been on a subject of which I knew nothing – but this was the sauciest remark to be uttered so far since any of us had left Portsmouth and yet none of the men around us seemed surprised by it. By now several of the other launches had arrived on shore and the rest of the officers and most of the crew had taken up a position flanking the captain.
‘Please to return my compliments to your brave captain when you see him next,’ said the island king in response and Captain Bligh nodded graciously.
‘I will, Your Majesty, and might I add my congratulations to you that your English has improved exceedingly since my last visit. You are speaking like a true gentleman who would not be out of place in King George’s court.’
The king nodded and seemed pleased by the compliment. ‘You are thanked,’ he said with a deep nod of his head.
The two men watched each other for a moment and I wondered who would be next to speak, but as I waited a second throne was brought out and placed on the sand beside him and then who should appear out of the trees but a monster of a man, half-naked, with hair down to his waist and a look on his face that suggested he had recently eaten a weevil and was not the better for the experience.
‘Captain Bligh,’ said the king, ‘may I have presented my wife Ideeah.’
Well, I don’t mind admitting that you could have stepped up beside me and given me a wink and I would have fallen over in surprise that the creature I was staring at was a woman, but blow me if he wasn’t telling the truth, for when she sat down and looked around at all of us her hair moved out of the way slightly and what did I see but a pair of bloody great titties that would have kept a bairn in milk for a twelvemonth. I looked at the captain but he seemed less disturbed than I did by what he saw and even looked away out of shame.
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, ma’am,’ he said, bowing again, although not as lowly as he had for the king. ‘His Majesty, King Tynah, has been kind enough to accept the compliments of Captain Cook and King George; may I in turn extend them and the gracious felicitations of the lady Queen Caroline to you?’
Queen Ideeah, for that was the behemoth’s name, seemed unhappy with the remark and turned to her husband, barking something rapidly and dramatically in a language I could not understand, but he dismissed her remarks quickly with a wave of his hand and she fell silent and looked down. I couldn’t help but notice the marks that covered his hands and arm, and even portions of his face. Lines and drawings, deep etchings of black and blue and other colours, that lent him the phizzy of a painting and not of a man. The other islanders were similarly illustrated but not perhaps in so extraordinary a fashion. It was true that many of the sailors on board the Bounty had tattoos of their own, but they were small things, words and fancies, the smallest drawings stretching from wrist to elbow, which might breathe into life when the bicep was inflated, but none could compete for colour or artistry as the pictures that adorned the body of Tynah.
‘My wife will not have learned the English tongue in as wonderful a way as I himself will have,’ remarked the king, which led me to a moment’s thought as I attempted to decipher it. ‘But please to fall to your sleep tonight with the joy of knowing that she is enraptured by you.’
Well, I believed that was as warm a welcome as any of us could have expected to receive, and the captain appeared to think the same thing, for he smiled and looked towards Mr Heywood – whose face had grown so red in the sun that I imagined I could see a trail of smoke emerging from behind his ears – before clicking his fingers in his direction. It was at this point that I realized the scut was carrying a medium-sized wooden inlaid box in his hands, one I had observed on many occasions in the captain’s cabin but had never had any cause to open or examine, as I had considered it merely one of the trifles that gentlemen carry with them to transport their snuff or their prayer-books in, whichever they rely on for sustenance more.
‘Mr Heywood,’ he said after a moment, when that foolish lad did not instantly march in his direction, and then we all looked at him and I saw that he was not paying attention to the scene playing itself out before him but was instead staring at a group of young females – more attractive, I will grant him, than the devilish woolly mammoth that occupied the throne beside King Tynah – and his eyes were out on stalks as he leered at their nakedness and I swear that his pustules were exploding with excitement.
‘Mr Heywood, sir,’ snapped the captain then and the scut sprang back to life just as Mr Christian pushed him forward, almost unsettling him and sending him arse over tea-kettle into the sand before us, which would have given me the rollickings for a fortnight had he not recovered and stood his ground. The captain glared at him as he came forward and I could see his face grow even worse red, on account of the fact
that staring at the ladies had given him the motions, a development that was only too obvious through his loosened trousers. However, without an ounce of shame such as his sort never have, he handed the box across to Captain Bligh, who in turn stepped towards the king – a little cautiously, I thought, as if he was afraid that any sudden movements might lead to a spear between his shoulder-blades – and opened it wide. A scene of a comic nature ensued, with the entire party behind the throne leaning forward and opening their mouths as one in delight before stepping back and nodding approvingly.
‘Might I be permitted to offer Your Majesty this token of our undying friendship?’ said Captain Bligh as the king reached forward and took the looking-glass from its place within. A fine piece it was too, silver with a gold edge circling the mirror. The king glanced at his face inside it and seemed unimpressed by what he saw, but then this was a man who had taken a creature from the depths for his wife and bed-mate so I knew not where his tastes lay. However, he accepted it graciously before placing it back in the box and handing it over to one of his attendants.
‘I am enraptured by your kindness,’ he said, sounding a little bored if I am honest, but then, as I was to realize, the king’s English tended to live in the realm of the superlative. ‘Might I dare hope that your visit will be an eternal one?’
‘We would very much like to stay for a few months, if we may,’ replied the captain. ‘King George and Captain Cook have sent many more gifts for Your Majesty’s pleasure; they are currently on board our vessel, but we will transport them to you presently.’
‘I was delighted beyond words,’ remarked the king, doing nothing to stifle a yawn. ‘And while you were here, there are many things we have offered you in return?’
‘Your generosity knows no equal,’ said the captain, and I confess that at this point I thought they might strike up a dance and perform a waltz together, so delighted were they by each other’s company. ‘And, since you ask, there is something that Your Majesty, in his kindness and beneficence, could provide us with.’
‘Which will be?’
And that was when the subject of the breadfruit came up.
27
TWO DAYS AFTER OUR ARRIVAL on Otaheite, the captain woke me early that morning with undue ceremony, by placing the toe of his boot quickly into my ribcage and dislodging me from my hammock. I woke with a start and was so close to letting loose an oath that half the phrase was out of my mouth before I could pull it back in. I swallowed nervously, looking up at him with a mixture of embarrassment and dismay, but he merely smiled and shook it off.
‘Keep a civil tongue in your head, young Turnstile,’ he said, throwing a handful of documents at me. ‘There may be ladies near by. What do you mean by still being asleep at this time of the day anyway?’
I raised an eyebrow and looked at him, wondering whether he was making a farce of me. It was true that the morning was bright but I knew for a fact that I had not slept for more than two or three hours and was desirous of many more yet.
‘Begging your pardon, Captain,’ I replied, trying to stifle a yawn. ‘Was there something you needed of me?’
‘Your company, sir,’ he said then. ‘And the use of your arms for carrying these small items. I am visiting Point Venus this morning and thought you could do with the exercise. You will grow flabby on this island, all of you men will. I’ve seen it before. A decent walk will do you the world of good.’
I frowned and exhaled the most enormous yawn before him, the kind I would never have released had we been back at our rightful places below decks, and as I did so he stared at me with distaste and shook his head. For myself, I thought there was little chance that the captain was interested in my health or physical well-being but, rather, he needed a dogsbody and I was it, but it mattered not, because before I could say a further word on the topic he was away from me, marching eastward, and what choice did I have only to follow him and hold my tongue. It was a warm morning, I recall that much, and having taken more than my rightful share of grog the night before I had been suffering the hallucinations in my sleep and did not feel the better for it yet. I looked ahead at the vast surroundings of the island as I caught up with Mr Bligh and asked him an indecorous question.
‘Is it far, sir?’ said I.
‘Is what far?’ he asked, turning round and staring at me as if my presence was a complete surprise to him and not something he had demanded.
‘Point Venus,’ I replied. ‘Where you’re taking me.’
He looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face and for a moment I thought he was going to burst out laughing, something I had never seen him do before. ‘I’m not taking you anywhere, Turnstile. You are accompanying me, as is my desire. We may be on land but I am still captain and you are still servant-lad, are we not?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I muttered.
‘This is what happens when ships dock on these islands,’ he continued, looking ahead now. ‘I have observed it on many occasions. We each forget our place. Discipline slackens. The natural order of things is subverted. Had we not enjoyed such a peaceful voyage to Otaheite, I confess that I would be more concerned about these matters.’ I liked that he thought it had been a peaceful voyage. It had held more than its share of dramas for me. ‘But in reply to your question, Turnstile, if it is of such importance to you,’ he conceded finally, ‘no, it is not far.’
‘Well, I’m glad to hear it, sir,’ said I, ‘as I believe my health is compromised this morning.’
‘I’m not surprised. Don’t think word of your escapades did not reach me. You may rest assured that I have eyes and ears everywhere on this island.’
I wasn’t sure whether that was true or not, for as far as I could see during our short residency so far, the men had already grown accustomed to island life and were settling in quite nicely. I thought it unlikely that any of them had set themselves up as informers or tattle-tales. If anything, I suspected the captain was feeling a little isolated now that the close confines of Bounty life were behind us for a time. When you can see all the men in your charge at any time you choose, it is vastly different from when you cannot.
‘My escapades, sir?’ asked I. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Do you know that I was eighteen years of age before I tasted my first drop of alcohol?’ he replied, keeping up such a pace as he walked that I feared I would fall over in my eagerness to keep astep with him. ‘And I swear that I didn’t care for it neither. Of course I know that all of you need some leisure time after your long voyage, and I promised you as much, but that can’t continue for too long. We have a job to do here, you’re aware of that. Duty must come first. You’re not much older than my own boy, William. If I found him in the condition that I found you this morning, I would kick his rump for him and he would thank me for it too.’
I suspected that he would not but said nothing about it for now and simply continued to follow him as we climbed higher.
‘It’s a curious thing, but I was around the same age as you were when I first came to Otaheite,’ he mentioned after some more time had passed. ‘A little older, perhaps, but not by much.’
I nodded and considered it. The captain was a decidedly elderly gentleman, thirty-three or -four if he was a day, which meant that it had been between one and two decades since he had last set foot on these shores.
‘With Captain Cook, sir?’ I asked.
‘Aye, with the captain,’ he replied sadly.
I hesitated before speaking again; there had been something that had been on my mind since arriving on the island but I was unsure how to phrase it. ‘Sir,’ said I finally, ‘might I ask you a question?’
‘Of course you can, Turnstile,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Why, you sound quite terrified in the asking of it too. Are you that afeared of me?’
‘No, sir,’ said I. ‘Only, you might think me a scamp to ask it and I don’t relish the thought of a flogging.’ I meant the words in jest, but no sooner had they escaped my mouth than I could te
ll that I had spoken ill. Perhaps it wasn’t the words at all, perhaps it was the tone of them, but either way the captain spun round and suddenly his previously cheerful countenance had grown dark, as I had seen it do on a few other occasions to date.
‘A flogging?’ he asked. ‘Is that what you think of me after nearly a year toiling alongside me? That I would flog a boy for an ill-advised question?’
‘No, sir,’ I said quickly, attempting desperately to salvage the situation, for even though I was tired and would have welcomed a longer stay in my pit, it was a fact that I enjoyed spending time with the captain and appreciated how it made me feel when he thought well of me. I had never enjoyed the benefit of a father, Mr Lewis being the closest I had got to such a thing and he had precious little to recommend himself, and the captain had increasingly played that role in my life. ‘You misunderstand me—’
‘You’re a fine fellow to make such an accusation,’ he snapped. ‘How many floggings have you seen me administer in our time since we left Portsmouth?’
‘Only one, sir,’ I admitted.
‘Only one, sir,’ he repeated, nodding ferociously. ‘And are you aware that that in itself will constitute something of a record for the British navy? I believe the least number of floggings on board a ship travelling our distance heretofore was seventeen. Seventeen, Turnstile! And I administered one, and even that I would have preferred to have ignored. Ours is a disciplinary record second to none and I have proved a friend to you boys and men, I thought.’
